


touch on obsession / no consequences

by sysupportgroup



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Brief mention of needles, Developing Relationship, Jeonghan's Midlife Crisis, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Professional Ethics, Sex Positive, licensed sexual surrogate therapy, mild dirty talk, varied sexual partners in a professional context
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26300212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sysupportgroup/pseuds/sysupportgroup
Summary: It’s not the boredom, chased away a long time ago by curled lips and pointed questions. Not the excitement that came in to replace the boredom, had Jeonghan feeling high and giddy on the way to Wednesdays, that elatement from finding someone who received his jokes so nicely and lobbed them back at him doubly vicious. Not even the buzzing lust that crept under his skin the first time he held Joshua through side-effects and haunted him for the week after when he jerked himself off guiltily to the ghost of Joshua’s hand wrapped around his wrist and his sleepy face post-orgasm.No, this is a creature of an entirely different sort and Jeonghan is restless once again, not from stasis but something far more treacherous, an emotion he’s not sure he can contain.“Fuck.” Jeonghan says out loud to the ceiling and wonders what he’s going to put in his notes: Therapist enjoyed it more than he should’ve. Therapist has a crush. Therapist should recuse himself.
Relationships: Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 20
Kudos: 131
Collections: K-Pop Ficmix 2020





	touch on obsession / no consequences

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Auber_Gine_Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auber_Gine_Dreams/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Save Your Love (Take Mine From Me)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190727) by [Auber_Gine_Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auber_Gine_Dreams/pseuds/Auber_Gine_Dreams). 



> title from bad by blithe
> 
> thank you for mods for organising ficmix again this year, it was so wonderful to participate in! dear leesa aka ao3 user auber_gine_dreams, thank you (and agonies (hyb)) for building such an interesting world
> 
> warning: there may be a section viewed as containing dubious consent. to clarify, joshua has completed a checklist of activities he is comfortable with and not, and when in an altered state of mind when consent would not be informed if elicited at that moment, they have that checklist to assume consent from in order to administer appropriate treatment. please take care of yourselves during this time and only read what you're comfortable with!

“First time,” Seungcheol tells him, “unattached. He’s never seen a surrogate before, a little bit skittish about it but Eric told him he needed to if he wanted to go on phystrus.”

“Phystrus? Really? How bad is his cycle if that’s what Eric’s recommended?”

“Last heat was two weeks long,” Seungcheol frowns, looking down at the file in his hands, lower lip jutting out in a ruby red pout, “and he’s seeing about eight months between them.”

“Oh,” Jeonghan sucks in a breath, grimacing, “yeah, that bad.” 

Heats aren’t always bad if you have them managed the right way, with the right people. He knows some people who actively look forwards to theirs - Seunghee, one of the few friends in the field he has, always gleefully marks off her calendar for hers, cackling as she counts down the days - but as a general tenet of the job, he’s exposed to more people who loathe their coming for various assorted reasons.  _ Two weeks _ , that’s definitely on the more severe end of the spectrum.

The prospect of having to suffer through something like that terrifies him, he can only guess how torturous an experience it was.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol has his mouth twisted to the side, eyebrows furrowed so deep Jeonghan thinks water could collect there if he tried, “bad and apparently getting worse for awhile, which is why Eric wants him to take something a little more heavy-duty. He’s just a bit uncomfortable with the requirement that he has to see a surrogate for it at the same time, I think.” 

“But he knows why, right?”

“He knows,” Seungcheol nods, flipping through the pages of the file. The little pink sticky-notes he uses to make notes in the file catch Jeonghan’s eyes, flashes of colour popping out from what is an impressively thick file, “but I still asked if there were any kind of adjustments we could do to make this more comfortable for him.”

“And?”

“Said we could provide him with free coffee,” Seungcheol chuckles, closing up the file and sliding it onto the table in front of him. He leans back in his chair and tilts his head, smiling dimple deep. He likes him already.

“I hope you told him what we have here barely passes as coffee.” Jeonghan plays along, mimicking Seungcheol’s body language. He’ll get there in his own time, he always does.

“I did and then he had a think. He said he doesn’t want an alpha, would be most comfortable with an omega.”

“Which is why you chose me?”

“That and out of all the rest, I thought you two would work best together. You’ll like him, I think.”

Interesting. Jeonghan doesn’t usually take omegas. Or at least Seungcheol doesn’t usually assign them to him. His client base is largely alphas with some sort of need to… let go. Have someone else take charge in the way society tells them they shouldn’t want or need. Omegas and betas are fair and few between for him, usually he sees them as talk therapy clients like Sowon and Eunha or more uncommonly, as a sexual surrogate. His last client needing that was about one and a half years ago though. He still remembers Yeeun fondly, the sweetest transomega that needed help transitioning out of ruts. She’s doing well these days, Jeonghan should pay her and Tingyan a visit soon. 

“I’m assuming it’s genetic roots for him? Given it’s Eric?” Jeonghan leans to swipe the file from the table in front of Seungcheol. Seungcheol gives him a scowl but barely bats an eye, too used to him now from the years standing between them. Jeonghan refuses to take any responsibility for his behaviour - Seungcheol brought this upon himself when he coaxed Jeonghan onboard for his operation and Jeonghan has never stopped reminding Seungcheol of it since. 

“Yep, details are in there for you to read in your own time, thanks for asking.”

“Guidance notes?

“Be nice to him. Gentle.”

“You hurt me, aren’t I always, Cheol-ah?”

The corner of Seungcheol’s lips ticks upwards in incredulous amusement, “I don’t know, what would Wonwoo say?”

Jeonghan laughs softly, thumbing through the pages of Hong Jisoo’s file. He lingers a little on the picture, a clinical mugshot of a mild looking man, buttoned up to the top and smiling stiff like he’s a stranger in his own skin. Poor guy. 

“That I’m a dirty dirty liar.” Jeonghan says frankly, remembering their last session. It never gets old how he’s the one hanging off a knot but Wonwoo had been the one limping into the office the next day. “How many sessions is he scheduled for?”

“None yet, he wants to meet with you first and get a feel for you before deciding. I’ve scheduled him in for an hour with you in your office next Wednesday. ” 

“A feel for me?” Jeonghan says lightly, cocking an eyebrow, mischievous smirk rising up. “In what sense?”

Seungcheol, like the grown adult he is, delivers a weak kick to Jeonghan’s ankles under the table. Jeonghan draws his legs towards him and plays innocent, cat-got-the-cream, when Seungcheol’s foot just hits the side of the desk instead and he curses under his breath.

“I’ll let you use your discretion,” Seungcheol grits out, tired and done. He’s going to kick Jeonghan right out of his office soon, Jeonghan has a good sense for these things, “I don’t think he’s the kind who needs contact in their first session though.”

Jeonghan hums, raking his hair back as he flicks towards the back of the file, scanning through Seungcheol’s notes from the initial appointment. Big bold characters on a sticky-note catch his eye:  _ reminds me of jeonghan _

“What does this mean? This note here, _‘Reminds me of Jeonghan_ ’.”

“Ohhh,” Seungcheol chews on his cheek, unobtrusively reaching for the little stress ball a client had given him years ago when they first started running, “you know. He reminds me of when I first met you. A little bit closed off, good at deflecting, good at people.”

“And devilishly handsome?” Jeonghan tosses his head back in a laugh, gives Seungcheol the big coquettish eyes that always works a treat on his clients. 

Seungcheol just looks back at him, unimpressed, and chucks the stress ball right at him. 

“Terrible at answering questions properly.” Seungcheol’s smile spreads wide even if it’s worn at the edges, finding impossible amusement in Jeonghan’s little yelp of surprise when the little squishy Earth bounces off his chest. “He just needs someone to push him a bit and I think you’d be good for each other that way.”

Jeonghan reaches for the stress ball and bounces it around in his hands, one lip curled up, “Is that really what you think of me, Seungcheol-ah? That I can’t answer questions?” 

Seungcheol slams him with exasperated eyes, reeking of long-worn reluctant fondness as he reaches a hand out for the ball and Jeonghan pings it at his face instead. He yelps and scrambles under his desk to retrieve it, Jeonghan finding the opportunity to make trouble whilst he’s out of sight, propping his shoes up on Seungcheol’s desk because he knows it’ll piss him off to no end. 

“‘You’re doing it now!” Seungcheol groans when he heaves himself back into his chair, shoving Jeonghan’s legs off with a whine. “Stop deflecting, Jeonghan-ah, I know you’ve been… restless for awhile but I genuinely think the both of you are a good match-up.”

_ Restless _ . A polite Seungcheol-ish way to put a name to the sticky static he’s been feeling lately. 

“Playing matchmaker, are you now, Seungcheollie?” Jeonghan mocks half-heartedly, eyebrow twitching. “You want to pair me up and get rid of me, is that it? Fat luck you’d have finding someone else as good as me - have you  _ seen _ my client retention rate?”” 

He sniffs dramatically, nose in the air, and knows he’s off the hook when Seungcheol just throws up his hands and lets him be.

“Look, just - just meet with him okay? He might not even like you and request for someone else, I wouldn’t blame him.”

“Fine  _ omma _ ,” Jeonghan scoops up the file and makes for Seungcheol’s mug, taking a large gulp of tea and twiddling his fingers at him as he stands, “I’ll go on my blind date like a good boy.” 

“No! Dating! Clients!” Seungcheol nags, the last thing Jeonghan hears before Seungcheol’s office door swings shut behind him. Jihoon stops and stares at him, deadpan in a way that always makes Jeonghan want to squish his cheeks and torment him a little bit. He gives Jihoon a little shrug and a smirk and makes to take a menacing step forwards, hand outstretched in a pincer and -

Jihoon’s face floods with panic and he stutters backwards, babbling something about having an appointment in a few as he flees back to his office, and hollow satisfaction fills his chest like curls of smoke, occupying the void of discomfort left by Seungcheol’s observation earlier. 

_Restless…_ Jeonghan snorts and pads back into his office, closing the door tight behind him as he sinks into his padded chair, Hong Jisoo’s file open in front of him as he reclines back. Eyes closed, he can put his finger on it now, the constant prickle under his skin for the last few months revealing itself. The itch of stasis, niggling like a parasite.

Fuck, Jeonghan hates it when other people are right. 

A lot of people ask him why he’s in this field, divided between camps of people with genuine interest versus those turning their noses down for what they view as selling his body out. 

The pay’s good, is the one reason he always throws out at parties. I like the people I work with, at professional events. Helping people, he tells his mother, watching them get better and more comfortable. The sex is a benefit, he jokes to his sister. 

He’s good at it, is what he thinks, lying awake at night and staring at his pockmarked ceiling. I wouldn’t be good at anything else. 

“Why do you want to know?” Is what he asks at his first meeting with Hong Jisoo, door of his office shut tight behind him to protect against any curious ears. 

“Isn’t it reasonable for me to ask?” Jisoo says, digging a knuckle into his eye socket. “I’m curious. I’ve never tried… this before.”

“Surrogate therapy?” Jeonghan tries to ask gently but a part of him is already playing defensive. Maybe it’s the fact that this is the question that Jisoo’s chosen to lead with, maybe it’s the fact that he’s annoyingly way more beautiful than the photo in his file had prepared Jeonghan for. More muscular too. “It’s a perfectly normal type of therapy, despite what you might’ve heard in porn or on tv. If you’d like to read up, there are some - “

“I’ve read up,” Jisoo cuts in firmly and he looks at Jeonghan, big eyes laden down and he just looks tired tired tired.  _ Push him _ , Seungcheol had said, but Jeonghan doesn’t know how he can do that in good conscience if Jisoo looks like he’s going to topple if the wind blows the wrong way, “I know what it involves, what you do, what it could do. I’m just curious about you.”

“Well I…” Jeonghan ponders, flicks through all the answers he’s saved up and thumbs the page he’s reserved for his networking answer, “I suppose I like the people I work with and the people I get to meet and help.”

“That’s it?”

“Do you need anything more?” Jeonghan pushes down that part of him that has him prickling, hedgehog spiny. He goes the converse, simpering sweet. “Why are you an,” he flips through Jisoo’s file noisily.  _ Petty _ , he can hear Seungcheol sniffing in his head, “oriental medicine shop owner.”

“It was my mother’s.” Jisoo says, lays out the answer deftly like he’s airing out laundry to dry, a swift efficient flick of the wrist. “She left it to me when she passed.”

“Oh,” Jeonghan puts down Jisoo’s file, subdued. Bravado seeps out of him like a leaky balloon, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was awhile ago,” Jisoo says, fiddling with the beaded bracelet around his wrist, “it’s okay.”

“Did you ever want to do anything else?”

“Nothing that I would have ever seriously considered.” Jisoo hooks a finger under the thread of his bracelet and tugs once, twice. Jeonghan’s eyes track the movement - his short blunt nails, the bumps of his knuckles, the veins like valleys - and bites his tongue on any further questions. “What about you?”

“Didn’t I answer this already?”

“Did you?”

Jeonghan rolls his words around in his mouth, picks them careful like the ripest fruit off the highest branches, careful not to bruise. Chastened, he says, “I’m good at it. I think I’m good at it, at least. I’ve been around for awhile, had a lot of clients, most of them have gotten better. It makes me feel like I’m doing something in this world, making an impact.”

Jisoo hums and it almost looks like he’s satisfied, the barest curl of a smile on the edges of his chapped lips, “You think you can help me get better too?”

You can’t make promises in this industry, Jeonghan knows that. Knows that Jisoo must know that. And yet, a yes rises to his lips unbidden anyways, nearly escaping the tip of his tongue before he can stuff it back in right under his birdcage ribs. 

“If you’re comfortable with me, we can try.”

“I don’t want to just try,” Joshua laughs, dry and miserable as he scrubs his face with those hands of his. His palm nearly covers his entire face and Jeonghan’s mouth is dry, throat parched, “I want to succeed. So badly. I’ve  _ tried _ so many things already.”

“But you haven’t tried me.” Jeonghan feels the blood thumping in his ears, Jisoo’s eyes suddenly on him like wide beam headlights. Borderline inappropriate, shit. Seungcheol won’t be pleased.

“...I suppose I haven’t.” Jisoo inclines his head respectfully and scoots his chair back. Tucks it back in, neat and tidy like the image he shows. “I think that’s the end of our time, Yoon-seonsaengnim, so I’ll let you go now. I’ll let Choi-seonsaengnim know about my decision, thank you for your time.” 

Jeonghan feels a creep of heat up his spine, a sudden seize of his heart rabbit-quick as Jisoo turns to walk out the door. There’s something pulling at him, more than just the general urge to help and be useful, something like selfishness tainting that innate altruism they’re all supposed to have. There is something like excitement that worms its way under his skin, replacing the boredom that had been whittling him down to the marrow. He tries not to think about it too much. “Just - just call me Jeonghan.”

Jisoo, halfway out the door, leans the long line of his neck back. Looks at Jeonghan like he’s turning his bones over in his hands, like he can see right through his skin into the sinew and flesh within. Says, “Call me Joshua. Thank you for your time, Jeonghan-ssi.”

Joshua tries him. 

Most of it is genuine surprise when Seungcheol tells him that Joshua’s scheduled in for an initial four sessions but a smaller part is comfortable relief, an  _ of course _ sunk into his bones like it was the only way events could have ever played out. And then their first session comes and then their fifth and then their twenty-eighth and Jeonghan settles into a pattern of behaviour with Joshua that makes him question whether life has always been this way, this easy. If Wednesdays had always been this exciting, if he had always known the feeling of Joshua’s hands engulfing his, if there had always been this much  _ life _ in his life. 

The boredom is quieter these days, the restlessness pacified when Joshua opens the door and welcomes Jeonghan into his home with his wearied kind face. Takes Jeonghan’s coat but makes him get his own drink. Always apologises at the start of the session despite how many times Jeonghan tells him not to when he gives himself his meds, lying on Jeonghan’s shoulder when they wait in peaceful silence for the side effects to kick in. 

Today is no different, stepping through the door and toeing off his shoes to step into the slippers Joshua leaves out for guests. He’s claimed the blue stripey pair as his, would feel a little pang of betrayal if anyone wore them but he’s never told Joshua that. Making claim to what he’s not entitled to, how selfish. He’s old enough to not need his mother to tell him that.

“Sorry for the mess today,” Joshua curls himself up on the couch, one leg crossed sweetly over the other and Jeonghan has to look away just to quell the part of himself that wants to coo and tell him how cute he looks. His face is a different story though, stormclouds gathering, residual pissiness hanging over his head, “had a difficult customer today. Made it hard to close on time and I got home late.”

“You clean before I come?” Jeonghan pads back from the kitchen with two glasses of water in hand, slides them down on the glass coffee table and plops down next to Joshua. He fights the urge to sling an arm around his shoulders, drawing that strange tenuous line between what’s okay in-session and out of session. “Aww, I’m honoured.”

“Don’t be,” Joshua snorts, prodding at Jeonghan’s thigh with his big toe. Familiar, so familiar it makes the boundaries blur. Jeonghan relents, pushes the boundaries. Puts his arm around Joshua and leans in, nose in the crook of Joshua’s neck. There’s stress in his sweat, acrid, but under that something more comforting, “you’re not special.”

“I’m hurt, Shua-yah, however am I going to recover from this fatal blow?”

Joshua keeps his eyes closed but snakes a hand upwards to pinch at Jeonghan’s nipple, cackling a little when Jeonghan lets out a little shriek and immediately tries to retaliate.

“I don’t know, you seem to be doing fine.” Joshua’s lips curl up pretty as he reaches for his phone and checks the time. “Are you alright to start by the way? Just so you’ll have some time to wash my scent off before you head back.”

“Oh,” Jeonghan squeezes Joshua’s shoulders encouragingly, mercilessly stomping down that sliver of disappointment that shows its face when Joshua reminds Jeonghan that it’d be unprofessional to head home smelling of him.  _ But what if I want to _ , his hindbrain sighs and Jeonghan has to compress that into a box in his brain marked ‘For Later Consideration’ when he’s not in Joshua’s apartment billing him by the hour, “that’s fine, whenever you’re comfortable.”

“Thanks,” Joshua reaches for the needle and the little pot of transparent liquid sitting innocuous on the coach’s armrest. It’s always disquieting, seeing Joshua calmly inject himself with his meds and swab it afterwards, clinical and detached. He takes a swig of water right after, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the periphery of Jeonghan’s vision, and Jeonghan has to close his eyes tight to avoid swamping Joshua’s apartment with the stirrings of his arousal. His heat is in three weeks, that’s what’s to blame of course, “and as always, I’m really sorry for whatever - “

“No apologies.” Jeonghan cuts him off, sitting up and making Joshua trade places with him, the weight of the other’s head on his shoulder keeping Jeonghan firmly on the ground. “You know what I have to say about them. You can’t help what you do during the adjustment period, it’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m here to help you with that.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it,” Joshua says like he always does, looking up at Jeonghan from his perch on his shoulder, eyes still bright even as the dark circles suggest his exhaustion, “if you gave me more details about what I do to you when I’m high, I bet I could get more specific with the sorry’s.” 

“Never anything that I’m uncomfortable with,” Jeonghan hums, letting his fingers stroke through Joshua’s slightly greasy hair. He’s not grossed out by it which is. Also another box of repression for later consideration, “plus you know what the side effects of your hormone meds are broadly.”

“Horny, sleepy or nonsensical,” Joshua recites dryly.

“Increased sexual arousal akin to a pseudo-heat, drowsiness or depressant effects.” Jeonghan corrects, a little tease in his voice. He chances a glance down and meets Joshua’s eyes head on. It’s too much to process at once. His heart stutters over a beat and he shifts his gaze away quick, taking a long breath and holding it, counting to five. “Get it right, Shua-yah.”

“Isn’t that what I said? It’s a spin-the-wheel either way.” Joshua giggles and smacks his lips, nuzzling a little into the crook of Jeonghan’s neck. Jeonghan can feel and hear him breathe in his scent and he wills himself to calm, think as many pleasant thoughts as possible. After awhile, Joshua speaks up again, his voice dipping into a lower register, words coming out slower like he’s enunciating them through a mouthful of molasses. “You smell good.”

The wheel spins. Stops on increased sexual arousal. Ding ding ding, fucker. 

Jeonghan swallows, sits perfectly still as Joshua purrs a little and breathes him in. Most sessions, he can get away with just this, maybe a little cuddling and letting Joshua grind down on his thigh if it’s a particularly bad swing. He lets himself drape an arm around Joshua, somehow more hesitant than when they first started and Joshua was just a client, nothing more. Now though, Jeonghan looks forward to his sessions. They joke about bullying Seungcheol sometimes, Joshua gave him a little elephant bracelet last week. Just the other day, Jeonghan bumped into Joshua in Myeongdong and they ended up sitting at a dessert cafe together all afternoon, daring each other to eat cream puffs in escalatingly embarrassing ways. 

Joshua had paid for them. Jeonghan had stayed up till 3am wondering if there was anything more to the gesture than general niceness. 

“‘m hot.” Joshua slurs, brown eyes misty as he clumsily climbs into Jeonghan’s lap, rocking downwards to align his bulge with Jeonghan’s growing one. “Want… alpha, alpha, alpha.”

“Shh, shh,” Jeonghan swallows, batting away the inner resentment he’s worked to combat over the years, and shifts his hands to Joshua’s hips, covered by the soft fabric of his sweatpants. He’s good at pretending, adapting. Being different things for different people. That’s the job and he’s good at it. “alpha’s here, do whatever you need Shua-yah.”

Joshua hunches into him, body tense and tight as he huffs into the crook of Jeonghan’s neck, rolling his hips down in a show of languid desperation. Jeonghan can do this, has done this before. Encourages him to move, rolling his hips up in an effort to match Joshua’s pace more than to get himself off. 

“Feels good,” Joshua pants, voice low and ragged in Jeonghan’s ear and fuck, Jeonghan can feel himself starting to soak, “feels good, want more. ‘m so wet, want you to touch me.”

He punctuates it with a kiss to Jeonghan’s neck and somehow that’s what knocks Jeonghan off kilter, losing his professional perspective - years of training and qualifications earned for a stupid amount of money and a stupider amount of time - for a second as he pictures pinning Joshua down, fucking him hard, making him cry  _ Jeonghan!  _ instead of  _ alpha  _ and making their scents mingle like a real mated pair. 

But - no. That’s Matthew next Monday morning, Minhyuk on Wednesday afternoon. Not Joshua, not what he’s here for. Remember, remember, remember. 

“Touch you where?” Jeonghan tries to sooth Joshua’s trembling body that doesn’t seem to want to let him out of the clenches of a pseudo-heat, patting his sides gently. “Do you want me to finger you, honey?”

“Knot,” Joshua spits out, digging his teeth into Jeonghan’s neck and it shocks Jeonghan into action like a bucket of cold water to the face, “want your knot.”

Ah fuck. Handling clients like this is tricky, when they ask for things they never indicated they wanted on their form. Jeonghan couldn’t give it to him, not a real one at least, even if he wanted to but the best he can do is an approximation.

Luckily, Joshua  _ did _ check fingering on his form. 

“Shh, shh, I’ll give you my knot, Shua-yah,” Jeonghan winces as Joshua digs his teeth in at a different spot, laving at it right after with his tongue. When he sits up and looks at Jeonghan, attention caught by the mention of a knot, he looks fevered. Hair mussed, eyes bright and glassy, shirt rucked up and a toned stomach and tiny waist on show. Like Jeonghan’s Joshua but not, “take your pants off for me? Off for,” Jeonghan swallows, reminds himself he’s playing a part, delivering a service. Clinical detachment, can he do it yes he can, “for alpha.”

Joshua whines and shimmies his sweatpants and underwear off ungracefully, peeling them down and the revelation of how wet he’s gotten makes Jeonghan lightheaded for a second.

“Touch, alpha touch.” Joshua groans, patting around for Jeonghan’s hand and placing it directly on his ass. Jeonghan bites down a whine of his own, swipes his fingers through the amount of slick soaking his hand and traces them around Joshua’s hole. It’s the first time they’ve ever had to resort to penetration and Jeonghan makes a note to follow up with Eric later on the effect that strong emotions might have on the severity of the side effects. 

“I’m touching you,” Jeonghan tells him softly, keeping his voice soft and calm, as he slips one in. It goes easy and Joshua arches his back at the feeling of it, head angled to show off the tanned expanse of throat. Heat or rut, it brings everyone back to base instincts. To belong, to claim - two sides of the same coin, “you’re doing well for me, baby.”

Joshua makes a pained sobbing noise when Jeonghan puts a second finger in, quelling Jeonghan’s brief panic when he shoves his hips back and asks for  _ more _ and  _ harder _ .  _ Want a knot, your knot, alpha alpha please _ he’s babbling and Jeonghan knows from experience his body won’t let him go until it’s been satisfied. 

“Shh, shh,” Jeonghan grabs him by the scruff, feels relief melt through him when he sees that it helps, makes Joshua’s body go all languid and limp, “just relax and take it, it’ll be over soon, okay? I know it hurts but I’m here to help.” He slides in a third finger to the tune of Joshua’s breathy cry and twitching muscles, pushing away all thoughts about the insistent throb of his own erection, “Alpha’s here to help, trust me okay?”

“A-alpha,” Joshua whines, insides wrapping like warm silk around Jeonghan’s fingers and this part always freaks Jeonghan out a little bit, but there’s no way around it. He lines his fourth finger up, teasing, “p-please - “

“You’re going to take my knot, aren’t you?” Jeonghan coos, channelling the attitude he treats his alpha clients with. Out of heat, he’d hate being talked to like this by an alpha but stereotypes aside, it tends to help even him when he’s in heat. “Going to be a good omega for me, let me mark you as mine?”

“Y-yes oh my God,” Joshua digs his nails into Jeonghan’s shoulders so hard, Jeonghan winces under the strength of his grip, “ _ fuck-me-knot-me-please  _ \- “

And then he opens his eyes, bleary and wet, locking his eyes on Jeonghan’s so accurately it’s almost like he’s lucid as he sinks  _ himself  _ down on Jeonghan’s four fingers. He lets out the prettiest cry when Jeonghan spreads his fingers on instinct, mimicking a knotting session, body seizing up with orgasm as he trembles through it with Jeonghan patting his back the entire time. Digital knot simulation isn’t usually enough for an actual heat but apparently enough for a pseudo one. 

“Jeonghan.” Joshua says, barely a whisper as he’s slumped against Jeonghan’s chest, cum sticky between their shirts and still clenching tight to Jeonghan’s fingers like his body thinks he’s milking a knot. He’s a mess and it’s ridiculous how much Jeonghan’s heart expands at the sight, “I… shit.” A shaky delicate breath, so different to the strong curve of his biceps, the thickness of his thighs. “Thanks.”

He slips off into sleep and Jeonghan stares at his slumbering form for awhile, longer than the session ought to go for. The sun goes down whilst he thinks, from orange and pink to violet blues and then navy black, and here’s something stirring that accompanies its descent. A shift in the air, almost palpable, as Jeonghan stares around Joshua’s living room. At his guitar, Janelle, well-loved and preserved in the corner. The potplant he keeps alive out of spite after he made a bet with his friends that he couldn’t. The little beadbox, transparent plastic containing compartmentalised colours and shapes, sitting next to the TV cabinet. 

It’s not the boredom, chased away a long time ago by curled lips and pointed questions. Not the excitement that came in to replace the boredom, had Jeonghan feeling high and giddy on the way to Wednesdays, that elatement from finding someone who received his jokes so nicely and lobbed them back at him doubly hard. Not even the buzzing lust that crept under his skin the first time he held Joshua through side-effects and haunted him for the week after when he jerked himself off guiltily to the ghost of Joshua’s hand wrapped around his wrist and his sleepy face post-orgasm. 

No, this is a creature of an entirely different sort and Jeonghan is restless once again, not from stasis but something far more treacherous, an emotion he’s not sure he can contain. 

“Fuck.” Jeonghan says out loud to the ceiling and wonders what he’s going to put in his notes: Therapist enjoyed it more than he should’ve. Therapist has a crush. Therapist should recuse himself. 

Joshua shuffles and lets out an ugly snore, unknowing and so oblivious, Jeonghan wants to cry. 

“You’re not usually this mean.” Jihoon clenches his teeth like the angry little munchkin he is, grasping at the headboard like he’s about to break the bars. “What’s fucking gotten into you?”

“I’d say,” Jeonghan breathes out, leaning back so Jihoon gets a good view of the way his stomach flexes as he bounces languidly on his dick, “I’d say  _ you  _ actually, seeing your cock is in my - “

“Nope.” Jihoon grunts, trying to snap his hips up as best he can. Jeonghan takes some savage pleasure in forcing them down again, pressing Jihoon down with his weight so all he has to do is take what Jeonghan gives him. “Something’s up - you’re never the one initiating appointments with us but in the last month, you’ve requested time with Wonwoo, Seungcheol, Vernon and myself. This isn’t like you.”

“Wow, are you saying I’m not allowed to fuck around like the rest of you?” Jeonghan says crassly, a little harsher than he intended although he was playing at hurt. He deliberately tightens up around Jihoon as a form of retribution, elicits a curse and a groan from him so at least that’s a win there. “That’s discrimination, Jihoon-ah. I’ve got a good mind to keep edging you for the next hour.”

“You know that’s not what I’m concerned about.” Jihoon snaps, glaring at Jeonghan without any heat. “Hyung, why do you have to be so difficult? We’re just concerned because we care about you and this isn’t normal behaviour. What are you trying to cope with?”

“I’m not one of your clients Jihoon-ah.” Jeonghan sings, furrowing his brow as he works himself on Jihoon’s cock, hoping he can push him just enough that he lets the subject go.

“But you’re my - fuck,” Jihoon licks his lips and looks away from Jeonghan’s face, stares at the plaster of the hotel room’s ceiling instead. Counting the seconds between the heaves of his chest, he’s fucking doing meditation exercises right now. God fucking damnit, “you’re my friend too, hyung. Something’s clearly going on and you’re not talking to any one of us about it even though we know you’d be the first to prod us about it if the roles were switched.”

“A man’s gotta have secrets sometimes,” Jeonghan tries for breezy, ends up bitter. He’s not having fun anymore, funny how sudden interrogation sucks all the pleasure out of this. 

He climbs off Jihoon and kisses him, a chaste peck to the corner of his lips followed by a pinch to his cheek, just to be in character. He knows well enough not to continue anything of this kind when he’s not in the right headspace. Jihoon knows this too by the way he looks a little abashed when Jeonghan loosens up the ropes and lets him up. 

“I’m not trying - “ Jihoon makes a start and then aborts. “We’re not. It’s just. We want to help but you’re not talking to us about it and that makes it ridiculously difficult, you know that.”

He does.

Jeonghan huffs and lies back, shuffling his boxers back on. Talking, he finds, is always easier when he’s lying horizontally. A little thump and Jihoon is lying right next to him too, shirt and boxers tugged on. He takes Jeonghan’s hand in his and holds it to his chest, sweet. 

“It’s a client.” Jihoon says like a question masquerading as a statement. “The one you see on Wednesdays. Seungcheol won’t tell us his name because confidentiality but - “

“I think I have to recuse myself.” Jeonghan scrubs a hand over his face and there’s a pause before Jihoon squeezes his hand, tight. “From that client. He’s too… I’m too…”

“Attached?”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan laughs shortly, “who would’ve known, usually that’s Seungcheol’s area of expertise.”

“He cares a lot,” Jihoon hums neutrally, “you do too - it doesn’t mean anything about your professionality or whatever if you have to recuse yourself. Makes yourself even more professional, don’t you think? That you know where to draw the line?”

“Cognitively,” Jeonghan says, short and sharp and punched, “I know this. But I… When I think about my job, why I do it. It’s because I’m good at it, one of the best. I - I don’t think I could do anything else, Jihoon-ah, I’ve sunk so much into it. Personal life, finances, fucking years of my life. I’m good and it’s why Seungcheol brought me on at the start, why my clients like me, why they trust me. Having to  _ recuse  _ myself though. That fucks it up. Makes me question if I’m actually as good as I think I am.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s bullshit, that you only do this because you’re  _ good _ at it.” Jihoon snorts derisively and rolls on his side to punch Jeonghan in the shoulder softly. “You haven’t seen yourself have you, when you’re talking about a client you’re helping or how they’re getting better? If you ask me, you do this job because you like it. Not because it’s the only thing you can do with your qualifications, not because of the pay or whatever reason you came up with. It’s enough to just like the job, hyung, you don’t need to justify it.”

“What, you think I’m overthinking it because of some internalised - “

“Yeah. A little bit. You might want to talk to someone about that.”

“I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?”

“You know what I mean.” Jihoon sighs and snuggles into Jeonghan’s side. “Or maybe you’re just having a midlife crisis.”

“The audacity - “ Jeonghan chokes, “I’m only thirty!”

“Never too early,” Jihoon says sagely and they sink into a silence for an indiscernible amount of time before they have to pack up and leave before checkout. 

“One last thing.” Jihoon says in the morning before they start the drudgery of washing up and wearing yesterday’s clothes to work. “This client…” He hesitates, toying with bluntness. “You and him… Are you…? I mean…”

He’s not good at asking questions which is fantastic because Jeonghan doesn’t quite want to answer them.

But if he did, he would close his eyes and tell the cheap chandelier, tell Jihoon solid and safe, tell himself: Yes, he is. Compromised. 

He revisits his thesis again. The core of it is that he’s a Libra, a natural peacemaker whether that’s a conversation between people or a conversation between people and their body. He wants everyone to find equilibrium, find comfort. He’s a little arrogant that way, thinking he’s good enough to help everyone find that but Libras are also idealistic so perhaps that balances out.

That’s why he likes his job and he thinks he’s happy leaving it at that. Some things just are, no overthinking required. 

(The mid-life crisis though… he found a grey hair the other day and now he’s thinking about going blonde so. That’s where he is with that.)

“That sounds like bullshit.”

“What! You don’t buy astrology?”

“I don’t buy you.” Seungcheol spins a pen and drops it. Scrambles to pick it up and grins sheepishly at Jeonghan. Spins it again. “I don’t think this is what you wanted to talk about when you came in today.” 

“Are you a mind-reader now, Seungcheollie? Quick, tell me the lotto numbers for the draw on Friday.”

“ _ Jeonghan _ .”

“Seungcheol.” Jeonghan screws up his face in a mockery of Seungcheol’s pouting expression, laughs half-heartedly when Seungcheol collapses under the weight of his attempts at stern professional boss. “Okay fine. Don’t… don’t react too much, okay? I just… Regarding Joshua, I have to recuse myself - I can do the exit sessions with him, get him acquainted with someone else but…” He sighs, reaches for Seungcheol’s stress ball and squishes it relentlessly between his hands, “I’m compromised. I don’t like saying it but I am.”

Something passes over Seungcheol’s face and Jeonghan groans internally. He hates it when Seungcheol’s right. They  _ were  _ good for each other, maybe too good. Eight months ago, Jeonghan would’ve never thought he’d stumble into liking someone else enough to recuse himself for it.

“That’s fine, it’s not uncommon and now that we know, we can take action. You did the right thing.”

He swings to his computer, clacks away as he assumedly brings up Joshua’s schedule of sessions and squints at the screen, “I’ll give him a ring right after this then. Discuss when he’d want your exit session to be - do you want me to be there to facilitate or will you be able to handle it?”

Jeonghan hesitates. Turns the options over in his hands, weighs them up. Comes to an answer. 

“Whatever he wants.”

“Was it whatever we did last session?” Joshua frowns, picking at the cupsleeve around the coffees he had picked up for them on his way here. It’s just the two of them, no Seungcheol in sight, which is apparently how Joshua wanted it to be. Jeonghan has no idea what that means. “Because I told you to tell me if I do something that makes you uncomfortable and last time was definitely… Eric’s told me now I shouldn’t give myself the meds if I’m feeling “strong emotions” on that day. It shouldn’t happen again.”

“No,” Jeonghan shakes his head, lying through his teeth, “I just realised I was getting… attached to you. It’s unprofessional and I can’t assess your needs objectively like that, Joshua. You need someone else.”

“Joshua?” Joshua clicks his tongue, chewing his lip in irritation. “Not Shua? Really?”

“I…” Jeonghan stumbles, at a loss in a way he so infrequently is, “Shua, I’m just trying to do my job properly. We can be friends outside of this but I just can’t in good conscience stay on as your therapist when - “

“When what?” Joshua says roughly. The cupsleeve falls on the table, ripped down the side. “Seungcheol and I are friends and he hasn’t recused himself. What’s different between you and me?”

Because I don’t see you as a friend the way Seungcheol does. Because I think you’re beautiful and not an ounce of it is platonic. Because if we keep going, I’m going to cross a line and this job that I love - it won’t be mine anymore. And neither will you. 

“Things differ from person to person Shua-yah,” Jeonghan crosses his arms, drumming his fingers on the desk in agitation, “I can’t explain how Seungcheol feels compared to how I feel.”

“And how  _ do _ you feel?”

Jeonghan looks up in alarm and Joshua scrutinises him, lips pursed. Lobs out: “Is it because I’m an omega? I know majority of your clients are alphas, is that what crossed the line or - “

“No!” Jeonghan flusters, the denial flooding through him strong like a tidal wave, “I would never - that’s not it at all. I just... It won’t be good for you or me if I stayed on, Joshua. I can’t make decisions in your best interest and you won’t be able to trust the advice I give you one hundred percent. Seungcheol recommended that you could think about making an appointment with Yibo, one of our visiting specialists, as my replacement. He’s also an omega and - “

“I just don’t get it,” Joshua says candidly. Cuttingly. His hand flies up to gesture at the offices lining the hallway, “You fuck plenty of your friends. I don’t think I’d be as comfortable with anyone except you.”

“You’d just have to give it time,” Jeonghan shakes his head, delivers a hearty pinch to the inside of his thigh, trying to keep his rising anxiety under control. He’s feeling too much, it’s too dangerous to keep this conversation going right now, “it took us awhile to get to know each other and build up trust, didn’t it?”

“Bullshit.” Joshua chokes out. There’s a look in his eyes that Jeonghan is unfamiliar with, something desperate, something angry, something hurt. “You wouldn’t have sprung this on me for no reason - don’t bullshit me, Jeonghan, there’s something you’re not telling me. You can get away with it for everyone else but not me. You can hide under all your therapy words but you can’t hide from me. I want to know why, you must have a reason. You always have a reason.”

“Joshua, you need to calm down.” Jeonghan can feel his breathing getting faster, heart pounding in his ears as he tries to ground himself with another pinch to the crook of his elbow safely hidden under his desk. “There are a lot of hormones at play right now - I note your heat might be coming up in the next month - and we could have a more productive conversation if we maybe did a meditation exercise or - “

“I want to  _ know _ .” Joshua leans forward and the pressure of his eyes is heavy, stifling. Jeonghan’s always been able to eke answers out of everyone else but having the tables turned is more than unpleasant. “Why am I different, Jeonghan? Why am I the exception?”

And it could be so easy. So easy to blurt it out, ruin a good eight months of painstakingly built trust and connection, decimate his fiduciary duties. So easy to lose a client, a friend, all in one blow. So easy to be the one in the chair for once, pouring his heart out, vulnerable, like he’s the one on meds. 

Turns out it’s even easier (even harder) just watch Joshua walk out the door, one ripped cupsleeve and a lukewarm coffee left behind, cooling fast. 

Actually, scratch that. It’s even harder (even easier) to chase Joshua out the door - past Seungcheol’s open office door and confused stare, right past Jihoon’s puzzled glance turned knowing smile - and stop him right outside the building with his empty coffee cup in his hand and that adorable frustrated furrow on his face. 

“You want to know?” Jeonghan wheezes, ugly and ragged, keeling over and bracing himself on his knees and trying not to dry-heave his lungs out. This is not the suave leading man move he had pictured. He hasn’t done sports in a fucklong time and his stamina has never been so disappointing. At least, for non-bedroom activities. “Do… do you really want to know, Shua-yah?”

“I don’t know Jeonghan-ah,” Joshua rolls his eyes but there’s the peek of a tiny smile of those darn lips of his, endlessly frustrating but so in reach, “do you want me to know?”

“I think,” Jeonghan coughs and then sucks in massive breaths of air trying to regulate his breathing to a normal level. When he looks up again, Joshua is looking at him, eyes twinkling again like the sparkle had never been extinguished, “what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you’re stupid,” Joshua says mildly, “and also I figured it out. Jihoon and Seungcheol were talking about how you’re probably in  _ love  _ with your Wednesday client and - ”

“You’re  _ awful _ .” Jeonghan breathes out and he’s still trying to catch his breath when Joshua just laughs, takes two steps forwards and ensures he fails for the next ten minutes. 

“So does Seungcheol just pair people up based on  _ vibes _ ?”

The last word is said in English and Jeonghan has no idea how to respond to that.

“ _ Sorry, I don’t speak English _ .” He says, slow and accented in English, and watches Joshua crack up in slow motion, a superzoom viewed in person. Everything is soft in the afterglow and Jeonghan is no exception, leaning in to press a kiss to where Joshua’s eyes crinkle up.

The meds helped - the heat that just broke was still bad but at least it wasn’t two weeks. Joshua isn’t as tired as he was when he first came to Jeonghan, the dark violet smudges under his eyes fading until they’re the shade of normal blue-black shadows of an average South Korean adult working nine to five to overtime.

Jeonghan still thinks he’s good at his job. Knows now he likes it too. The restlessness revisits every now and again but now he has an outlet for it - every moment he spends with Joshua is spent trying to one-up him, push his buttons and defend his own. 

He likes this too.

“Sorry,” Joshua laughs and intertwines his legs with Jeonghan’s, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “does Seungcheol pair people up just based on the feeling he gets from them? I was talking to him the other day and he was joking that he regrets pairing us up now.” 

“Oh, so that’s why he was whining all day that you were bullying him?” Jeonghan teases and receives the punch to his arm with grace, draping his arm around Joshua with ease and kissing him soft. It leaves a dopey smile behind on his face like stubborn residue. “Not always - he has a good feel for people, sometimes Wonwoo helps him, but it depends on what the person’s looking for, who would fit them that way.”

“And what did he think I was looking for?”

“He thought you might need a push,” Jeonghan gives up finally, “and that I might too. That we could be good for each other that way.”

“Like this?” Joshua jests and shoves him gently in the shoulder, nearly making Jeonghan fall off his side of the bed. 

“No,” Jeonghan snipes back, “like  _ this _ .” He pushes Joshua back a little harder, revels in the little yelp he makes as he rolls towards the wall and braces himself against it to stop his momentum. He flops onto his back and huffs, bangs defying gravity for a second as he glares and Jeonghan feels so light with happiness, he practically rolls onto Joshua’s chest and grins megawatt, so bright he thinks he could power the whole universe. He feels bird-boned, hollowed out and pumped with helium, shooting for the stratosphere because that’s Joshua - his boyfriend, his love, his life - beaming straight back at him, those familiar crinkles of his eyes and nose reflecting the adoration that must be plain on Jeonghan’s face, straight back at him. 

“You’re so annoying.” Joshua gripes and drapes his limbs around Jeonghan, heavy like a blanket. He drops a kiss to the top of Jeonghan’s head and Jeonghan can feel the smile where it lands. 

“I should break up with you.” Jeonghan yawns and places his ear right over Joshua’s beating heart, an endless rendition of  _ I am here _ to a steady tune. 

“You’d be fucked without me.”

“I’m fucked even when I’m with you.” Jeonghan teases sleepily, snaking a spare hand around to pinch at the swell of Joshua’s ass. “Is your memory that bad?”

“No, I’m just that good.” Joshua mumbles and he doesn’t make sense but Jeonghan lets him get away with it anyways. He blames it on love and maybe it’s a little early to call it that but Jeonghan has had enough of overthinking for a lifetime. 

It’s simple, he’s learning, to just name something and see if it sticks, see if it feels real. He labels the lilt of Joshua’s voice as  _ love _ , the stupid way he snores  _ endearing _ , the fuss he’ll make over tucking the sheets back in exactly right in the morning when Jeonghan inevitably yanks them up  _ cute _ . 

It sticks, it works, it’s real.

It’s the life they’ve built together, the friends they share, the soft clumsiness of night blurring into day. It’s Joshua and it’s Jeonghan and it’s their future, a sailboat ready to head into the burnished sunset after its christening. 

Just needs a push. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated !


End file.
